


Your Symphony

by etherealstar



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Deviates From Canon, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Family Issues, Gen, Growing Up, Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), One Shot, Philza is Dadza, Sad, Self-Doubt, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, ghosts can write letters shhhh, man ., techno is sbi family friend ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28389912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherealstar/pseuds/etherealstar
Summary: A letter from Wilbur to Phil, son to father, after the explosion of L'Manburg.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 41





	Your Symphony

**Author's Note:**

> this is what i would imagine wilbur writing to phil if he was still 'villbur' & ghosts could write letters (with my own little twist:)
> 
> also,, if u want to listen to "son" by sleeping at last while reading this, u don't have to but the option is there 
> 
> hope u enjoy!

_ Dear Phil,  _

  
  


_ Do you remember the guitar you gave me, when I was a child?  _

My fingers were ecstatic it could create its own definition of art, 

It was enough to give my soul warmth.

It would start with broken melodies. This would frustrate me as I wanted it to sound perfect.

I believed in myself well enough that I eventually created a coherent melody. It became second nature with more practice, my fingers guiding my hands and its position. 

I was so excited to show you my creation that I set an exact time outside on the porch so I could play for you. You listened intently as I effortlessly played the same tune I’ve been practicing for who knows how long. 

The applause from you and a proud grin caused a wide smile spread across my face. 

“I'll create more music for you soon!! I promise!!” 

I remember telling you. I remember your response being, “I bet you will,” as you ruffle my fluffy hair, the giggles from both of us filling up the already sweet atmosphere. 

_ That was my first, unofficial symphony.  _

I remember more things, if you don't mind. 

I remember being met head to head with an old soul, the sea for his eyes holding knowledge about war and violence. The pink of his hair and animal ears complemented the rest of his royal-type outfit, the tusks adding more to his pig characteristics. 

You reassured me that he, Techno, would be a good friend of mine. It definitely helped that he was the same age as me and had a similar liking for sparring, though more professional and intense than I. 

I remember one day Techno was seemingly practicing sparring motions alone as I was practicing on my guitar. I created a new melody for you to listen to. Excited, I got up from my chair and walked outside to meet you. Though, once I turned and saw you, I stopped in my tracks.

I could only look at the two of you together practicing sparring. I saw how delicate your hands were positioning his ever so carefully like an expensive, beautiful glass piece, protecting him from being broken. 

Guiding him through movements so elegantly, I saw you smile at him and his smile at your praise. You were proud of him as if he were your own. You were happy. 

I remember not saying a word and walking back into the house. I thought it would be better if you didn't notice I was there. 

There had to be more instances where I was affected like this, I just can't remember the ones after that day. 

I remember I stopped creating music, heading into my teenage years. 

I remember you asking me frequently if I wanted to do an activity with you, and I said no enough times you stopped asking. I remember when we would only exchange our morning greetings, and that would be it. 

I remember you asking me if I had made any new music. I didn't respond. 

I remember when you stopped ruffling my hair. I remember the last time you revealed that proud smile towards me. 

I remember around that time Tommy came into the family picture. I always thought he was such a young spirited kid. His eyes blue like Technos and yours in fact, filled with determination. 

I remember a realization of my purpose. I could run a government, and it could work. I could be president. 

You told me yourself I was an adult now, it was about time that I made a name for myself. I would name it  _ L’Manburg.  _ I remember Tommy and I were walking out of that house one more time, heading towards our new, great nation about to be created. 

I put continuous effort into the nation I was building. The pride that I carried was growing stronger with every blood, sweat and tears Tommy and I and the rest of our comrades lost to build up L’Manburg in its true glory. 

_ It would be my new, and only true symphony.  _

I remember the hope being stripped out of me after we were banished. I remember the dense, bleak feeling that made up the underground cavern we had to refuge in. I remember our allies winning the war over Schlatt. I remember Tubbo becoming president, 

What a good kid. However, it was living proof of the truth I faced long ago, that I could never win.

I remember escaping to that button room. God knows the number of times I've been here, the number of times I've thought about pressing this button and blowing it all up to smithereens. 

_ I remember you.  _

I remember you, standing at the hallway entrance a few feet away from me amidst the chaos above us. You were just like the rest, trying to convince me not to blow it up, and I wouldn't listen. 

I remember pressing that button, the explosion loud in my ears. I remember yelling at you to kill me. I remember  _ “You’re my son!” _

I remember you stabbing me in the chest. I remember you catching me before I would collapse on the rock ground covered in debris. 

I remember your warm tears hitting my face. I remember being so happy that you would be the one to take my last life. I remember feeling the greatest amount of peace looking up at you, my last moments being in your arms.

You came for me. At first this confused me, because why would anybody at least try to save me after i've fallen so low to the point of no return- 

Then I realized, you cared. 

You cared enough about me to find me and try to stop the explosion. You tried to tell me that I could gain this nation back,  _ that it was truly mine.  _

And the only moment I realized you cared was the last seconds of my life. 

My nation left my grasp long ago. I let it escape from my own two hands, I left my symphony to forever be unfinished. 

I never got to tell you this, so that's why i've written this in the first place. When you ask me if I've created any music, would you believe me when I told you it was in the form of a nation? 

_ L’Manburg, my unfinished symphony, was meant to be in your honor.  _

It was glorious Phil, and I wish you could have seen it in its prime. 

That was what was supposed to happen, anyway. I prayed that you would come and visit come day and toast a drink with us. We would spend the hours together sitting on the fresh grass, sharing tales and melodies, like we did back then. 

We would exchange loving words to each other, and through giggles and the sunfall of another grand day, you would let the words _ ``I'm proud of you, son.”  _ escape from your lips, finishing it off with a genuine smile. 

The question then becomes,  _ are you proud of me Phil? _ I mean, have you ever been proud of me, with my creations? 

_ They were made for you. _

I know L'manburg failed, and I failed the rest of my comrades. But it would be liberating if there was something in my life I could be proud of, if it could be recognized that I tried. 

I know if I just heard your voice confirming those worries otherwise, I would feel safe. 

I know your hand was empty until you had to hold that fatal sword. I know I placed a heavy burden on your shoulders even when you continued to believe in me, as if I could redeem my sins. 

I know you reached out to try and grab my hand and pull me in your embrace. I know the demon's chilling grasp began to wrap around my body and pulled me in instead. 

My soul feels cold.

But If I could get your true approval, I can be free from this eternal cold, just like you wanted. 

If the nation I made was worth the pain, if my melodies were worth the listen, 

If anything I've created in my life was good enough, I can only wish for that to mean I was a good son. 

I hope I was good enough for you to love, 

even to my very last breath. 

  
  


_ Your symphony,  _

_ Wilbur  _

  
  



End file.
